I can’t help but think that the Mountaineer would be an incredible value for the money if only someone had been in charge – I mean in charge – during its development. Here is a vehicle with an enviable spec. sheet. Independent rear suspension (IRS). Optional 4.6-liter single overhead cam V8. In-dash 6-CD changer mated to a fine AM-FM stereo. Dual climate controls. Reverse sensing system. And the list goes on. All for $36,905 as-driven. A lot of money, yes, but also a lot of vehicle.

And so much better than its much more truck-like predecessor.

The IRS really helps the ride and handling of this vehicle, though you’ll never feel totally at-ease flinging it into entrance ramps and around corners, even though you can. Independent control of the rear wheels can’t overcome a tall body, high ground clearance, and lofty center of gravity. What it can do – and does – is smooth out the road imperfections, calm the ride motions, and radically reduce the side-to-side movement that causes head- and torso-toss on bumpy pavement.

The engine has ample power and what passes for acceptable fuel economy (I attained 16.2 mpg in predominantly highway driving), and is mated to a five-speed automatic transmission. Unfortunately, during our time with the Mountaineer, it showed an unnerving tendency to hesitate while running up through the gears on a part-throttle. Occasionally it would balk slightly, which caused a sharp change in the rate of acceleration, before moving on to the next gear. Plus the engine wasn’t as quiet or refined as you’d expect from so nice a specification.

Inside the story was the same. The seats lacked any side bolstering worth the name, which made transients more exciting and foreboding than they need be. Yes, bolsters would make entering the vehicle more difficult, but the confidence they would give driver and passengers alike would be worth the inconvenience.

The adjusters for the six-way power driver’s seat sits low on the side of the bottom cushion’s squab, which makes it necessary to jam your arm between the seat and door panel, or – better yet – open the door in order to adjust the seat. Dumb. Almost as dumb as the forward sight lines. The sun visor was so thick and the windshield so low that it was necessary to bend forward and look up to see traffic lights when the first in line. And the controls for the rear HVAC unit were set at so shallow an angle as to make them invisible to the driver.

The footbrake – which looks like every footbrake to grace a Ford during the past 20 years – had a sharp back edge that might prove nasty in an accident. Further, there was no provision for a dead-pedal, a place to comfortably rest the left foot while driving, and be used as a brace during cornering.

The silver accent trim lightened what otherwise might be a dull, dark interior, but left me wondering what it would look like after a few years. Real aluminum would wear better and give a more up-scale feel.

Speaking of feel, the wheel-mounted stereo controls often needed a hefty push to make contact and do as asked, while the shut-off switch for the rear sensing system sounded like those “cricket clickers” kids used to covet. The switch felt as cheap and nasty as it sounded. Slightly better, but marked down for having so many visible parting lines, was the hard-plastic trim. Graining and color match among the various plastics found inside was close, but the difference in gloss and feel made me feel serious cost-containment was underway by the time the material spec. sheet was written.

See what I mean by the need for someone in charge of the project? A leader with a clear vision of what is or isn’t acceptable could have prevented most of these items from reaching production. Had this happened, the Mountaineer might have been an exceptional value proposition in its class. As it is, the vehicle – nice as it is – falls short of the expectations it elicits.